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wellthrownstone.livejournal.comDec. 22nd, 2006
wellthrownstone.livejournal.com
Welcome, Yule!
Dec. 22nd, 2006 12:20 amthe-fool.livejournal.comAnd so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive.
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.
Welcome Yule!
-Susan Cooper
And outside the snow is falling, falling, and in it, one bright glow, one dancing light, one startled laugh, to be alive again. And the high horns pass and the low flute plays, and a vision of antlered men hovers in the spaces-between-thought, followed by the infinite ting... ting... ting... of a triangle behind the heels of the hunter-boy, the hobby-horse, and the man in woman's clothing. They come and go, the year comes and goes, and in its wake, a dead woman or a living man, or a dead man or a living woman, or a shadow with bells in its cap and a song that is silent because it is too loud for the universe to bear hearing yet. Men with swords behead Saint George. A dragon roars silent fire into the heavens. The stars spin, the visions fade, the snow breaks them into splinters and spreads them over the memory of mankind, the passion, the laughter, the rebirth echoed in the cycle of every heartbeat, felt like a pin in the guts of the old shed clothing of the past year. Out in the snow, a Fool is dancing.
Welcome, Yule.
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive.
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.
Welcome Yule!
-Susan Cooper
And outside the snow is falling, falling, and in it, one bright glow, one dancing light, one startled laugh, to be alive again. And the high horns pass and the low flute plays, and a vision of antlered men hovers in the spaces-between-thought, followed by the infinite ting... ting... ting... of a triangle behind the heels of the hunter-boy, the hobby-horse, and the man in woman's clothing. They come and go, the year comes and goes, and in its wake, a dead woman or a living man, or a dead man or a living woman, or a shadow with bells in its cap and a song that is silent because it is too loud for the universe to bear hearing yet. Men with swords behead Saint George. A dragon roars silent fire into the heavens. The stars spin, the visions fade, the snow breaks them into splinters and spreads them over the memory of mankind, the passion, the laughter, the rebirth echoed in the cycle of every heartbeat, felt like a pin in the guts of the old shed clothing of the past year. Out in the snow, a Fool is dancing.
Welcome, Yule.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 12:32 amexplorertruman.livejournal.com(OOM: Travellers entering a brave new world)
The Front Door opens, and a panicky Truman Burbank falls into the bar. His clothes look largely shredded and torn, and there were various cuts and bruises on him. The screaming throng in the background screaming his name, and clawing for him in the distance were likely the reason why. Luckily, the door closes on their puzzled faces, and only then does he start to relax.
"Honey, I'm home..." he weakily says to the floorboards where he lies.
The Front Door opens, and a panicky Truman Burbank falls into the bar. His clothes look largely shredded and torn, and there were various cuts and bruises on him. The screaming throng in the background screaming his name, and clawing for him in the distance were likely the reason why. Luckily, the door closes on their puzzled faces, and only then does he start to relax.
"Honey, I'm home..." he weakily says to the floorboards where he lies.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 08:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
futures_of_ashFor once the new cafe's barista seemed to be...distracted. Busy beyond the pale, near running around in circles as she prepared things for the evening party. She'd been doing so for well over twenty-four hours...
She didn't remember most of it.
She was still cheerful though, still bouncy, and utterly, utterly wired it seemed.
[Tag at will, but responses will be slow]
She didn't remember most of it.
She was still cheerful though, still bouncy, and utterly, utterly wired it seemed.
[Tag at will, but responses will be slow]
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 09:38 ampirate-gibbs.livejournal.comGibbs is used to seeing Jack in one of his...Moments. Which is to say, he's never surprised by them. Even if this time, it means Jack is dressed strangely and has shaved his beard (revealing a surprisingly young and even mild face). That's new. But the demeanor...he's seen that before. It's the air of a man blessed by madness so often that he has to go sane to endure. Gibbs is never one to think too deeply about his captain. That would be foolhardy, wouldn't it?
So would trying to figure out whether Jack is under the spell of the Bar or some other force, or whether it's Jack who's doing the spinning of the spell. Best, thinks the old pirate, to stay clear of Jack till it blows over, and to hope that when it's done they have more gold than when they started.
Which leaves Gibbs on the shore, rum and hardtack at hand, after a morning of inspecting the cannon. (You never know when the Royal Navy will arrive, even here, do you?) In the breeze, a piece of paper blows about, and then wraps about Gibbs' leg. He reaches for it. A note of some kind, not of much use for a man who can barely read. But he recognizes one word.
"Why didn't Jack tell me there's a brothel here?"
[ooc: there will be slowtime for work]
So would trying to figure out whether Jack is under the spell of the Bar or some other force, or whether it's Jack who's doing the spinning of the spell. Best, thinks the old pirate, to stay clear of Jack till it blows over, and to hope that when it's done they have more gold than when they started.
Which leaves Gibbs on the shore, rum and hardtack at hand, after a morning of inspecting the cannon. (You never know when the Royal Navy will arrive, even here, do you?) In the breeze, a piece of paper blows about, and then wraps about Gibbs' leg. He reaches for it. A note of some kind, not of much use for a man who can barely read. But he recognizes one word.
"Why didn't Jack tell me there's a brothel here?"
[ooc: there will be slowtime for work]
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 11:09 amagnes_nittAngie is bundled up against the cold, huddled in a chair by the fire. She's sipping miso broth from a mug and listening to her subliminal iPod tracks. This one's over-track is a crackling fire, which blends in well with the actual fire.
As soon as she warms up again, it'll be time for her lunchtime workout, but in the meantime, she's botherable.
As soon as she warms up again, it'll be time for her lunchtime workout, but in the meantime, she's botherable.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 12:23 pmfallen-april.livejournal.comApril's downstairs in loose, soft-looking clothing, sitting gingerly on the couch. Her face is rather bright red.
As fun as her afternoon out of the bar with Cait had been... sunburns are no fun, even if it does give her an excuse to have her boyfriend rub aloe all over her.
Bother at will.
[ooc: totally off topic - she's got a pretty header that I can't help but show off. *points*]
As fun as her afternoon out of the bar with Cait had been... sunburns are no fun, even if it does give her an excuse to have her boyfriend rub aloe all over her.
Bother at will.
[ooc: totally off topic - she's got a pretty header that I can't help but show off. *points*]
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 12:52 pmfoxglove_eyesOne pale Velvet trails in from the lake, bringing a particularly hearty gust of wind with her before the door closes again.
Several minutes later, she's settled at the bar with a glass of dark red wine. She'd be glad to have company.
Several minutes later, she's settled at the bar with a glass of dark red wine. She'd be glad to have company.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 01:15 pmdr-sarcasm.livejournal.comTon is waiting to sarcasm.
It's been several days since he's snarked. And this holiday spirit is redoubling his sarcasm meter. Even though he doesn't know what holiday it is, it's ridiculously cheery in here, and needs a cynic to straighten thi place out.
If you goof up in his sight, and there is no one who has come to bother him (hint, hint), prepare to be derided.
You have been warned.
-------------------------------------
Vash is in a staring contest. With the wall.
Actually, to most, it's a door. But it's still a door to Vash.
You could almost say it's inhuman the way he' able to just sit and stare.
Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaring.
Someone PLEASE snap him out of it?
It's been several days since he's snarked. And this holiday spirit is redoubling his sarcasm meter. Even though he doesn't know what holiday it is, it's ridiculously cheery in here, and needs a cynic to straighten thi place out.
If you goof up in his sight, and there is no one who has come to bother him (hint, hint), prepare to be derided.
You have been warned.
-------------------------------------
Vash is in a staring contest. With the wall.
Actually, to most, it's a door. But it's still a door to Vash.
You could almost say it's inhuman the way he' able to just sit and stare.
Staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaring.
Someone PLEASE snap him out of it?
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 01:21 pmcorsec-jedi.livejournal.comCorran.
Whyren's.
Bar.
Minimalism because mun's creativity is shot.
Whyren's.
Bar.
Minimalism because mun's creativity is shot.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 01:31 pmunderdarkangel.livejournal.comDrizzt is in bar having just finished a patrol in the northern mountains, he has opted to find a place thats a little warmer, entering a cave he finds himself in Bar.
"Well I shall have to mark this cave on my map perhaps Bar will keep the door here."
Dropping a black figurine to the ground Drizzt speaks to it in soothing tones.
"Come forth Guenhwyvar."
A black mist envelopes the figurine and shortly after a great black panther is standing in its place.
Ordering a Frostwine from a passing waitrat he finds a spot on the carpet near the fire place where he and guen have curled up together.
"Well I shall have to mark this cave on my map perhaps Bar will keep the door here."
Dropping a black figurine to the ground Drizzt speaks to it in soothing tones.
"Come forth Guenhwyvar."
A black mist envelopes the figurine and shortly after a great black panther is standing in its place.
Ordering a Frostwine from a passing waitrat he finds a spot on the carpet near the fire place where he and guen have curled up together.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 01:32 pmunderwater-owl.livejournal.comEnters Random, looking happy and covered in a comfortable amount of finger paint, sleeves rolled up past his elbows and feet bare. Some surprise crosses his face as he steps into the bar. It's been a long time since he was 'brought' here without searching it out... come to think of it, it's been a long time since he searched it out, too. Maybe that has something to do with it.
Anyways, since he's here, he's making the best of it and getting a cup of coffee, a newspaper, and heading over to relax in an armchair next to the fire.
Anyways, since he's here, he's making the best of it and getting a cup of coffee, a newspaper, and heading over to relax in an armchair next to the fire.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 01:55 pmmendanddefend_archiveIf there is any doubt in Bob's mind that this tofu madness has to end, and soon, that doubt is erased when he sees the book that Bar gives him with his meal today.
"Okay, this is just getting ridiculous."
"Okay, this is just getting ridiculous."
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 01:57 pmgone_byebyeIt's been a long few days of tofu possession research. Ray is almost starting to wish he were working retail in midtown- well, no, he knows better than to wish that, especially after the involuntary shopping trip with Garion. Still, it'd be a different kind of messed-up December, wouldn't it?
In the meantime, he's got a notice up on his table to the effect of 'Collating tofu information here- let me know if I can help'. And keeping an eye out for people who might disagree with his assessment of the tofu as a problem, because if he spots any of them the notice is immediately flipped over in favor of one that instead reads 'I like pie'.
In the meantime, he's got a notice up on his table to the effect of 'Collating tofu information here- let me know if I can help'. And keeping an eye out for people who might disagree with his assessment of the tofu as a problem, because if he spots any of them the notice is immediately flipped over in favor of one that instead reads 'I like pie'.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 02:07 pmnot-death-eater.livejournal.com"What a most disappointing day."
Are the words that come from his mouth, even before he realises that he has entered Milliways.
"And it just keeps going downhill."
Are the words that come from his mouth, even before he realises that he has entered Milliways.
"And it just keeps going downhill."
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 02:07 pmunwraith.livejournal.comMichael's there. He hasn't eaten, so no Yuppie! Michael in the offing.
He's been watching the patrons with a look that's somewhere between barely amused and "fucking Milliways..." which is beginning to be a motto of his, too.
He has a pitcher of non-soyed beer, and a couple of empty chairs across the table from him. Botherable, if you dare. He'll talk to anyone today, familiar or not.
He's been watching the patrons with a look that's somewhere between barely amused and "fucking Milliways..." which is beginning to be a motto of his, too.
He has a pitcher of non-soyed beer, and a couple of empty chairs across the table from him. Botherable, if you dare. He'll talk to anyone today, familiar or not.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 02:12 pmtalkback.livejournal.comOnce more into the breach, we find Chase stumbling tiredly down the bar, leaning on his staff. It's been one of those nights where you just can't sleep, because whoever is in the next room is being particularily loud, and once they shut up, the bed springs on the bed of the couple in the room above you begin to squeal, and it's just another reminder that you don't have any one any more, so you end up staying up all night, just thinking about Her, which keeps your pet raptor awake, and there's nothing like a cranky raptor trying to sleep to force you out of bed in the morning.
"God my thoughts are rambling today."
"God my thoughts are rambling today."
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 02:18 pmregrowingpains.livejournal.com"Uh-huh, uh-huh, totally cool what she did, totally. Heroic. Yeh."
Claire darts through the door, slamming it behind her, and leaning against the wall there. Oh, My, God. If one more person talked to her about how Jackie saved that guy from the fire, she was going to scream. So, no, Claire didn't want the acknowledgement, but, the way Jackie was milking it...
She stalks over to the bar, and stares at it for a bit.
"No chance of a beer, is there? After a day like this, I think i can understand why people drink."
It's said half jokingly, but still, she gets nothing.
Claire darts through the door, slamming it behind her, and leaning against the wall there. Oh, My, God. If one more person talked to her about how Jackie saved that guy from the fire, she was going to scream. So, no, Claire didn't want the acknowledgement, but, the way Jackie was milking it...
She stalks over to the bar, and stares at it for a bit.
"No chance of a beer, is there? After a day like this, I think i can understand why people drink."
It's said half jokingly, but still, she gets nothing.
OOM: SoCal Beach
Dec. 22nd, 2006 03:15 pmagirllost[OOM: Millitimed to the day after Jack moves in with Chris --
Kim and Jack have lunch together near the beach.
Possible warnings for angst.]
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 03:17 pmbohemian-mark.livejournal.comA fallout shelter sign walks into the bar.
...
What? It's just Mark, holding a sign! "Jill, why the -hell- do you have...." He looks around. "This is not the set design office. Again." Anyone want a sign? The set design department probably won't miss it.
[ooc:And mun is being thrown off of library computer. Will be back as soon as her car can be obtained, and driven to somewhere else. Hopefully. And mun is back. Whee?]
...
What? It's just Mark, holding a sign! "Jill, why the -hell- do you have...." He looks around. "This is not the set design office. Again." Anyone want a sign? The set design department probably won't miss it.
[ooc:
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 03:47 pmdidntseeit.livejournal.com[OoM: The Dreams Before Christmas
Note: Any one who is freaked out by skeletons should not read the bit in italics, thank you]
Note: Any one who is freaked out by skeletons should not read the bit in italics, thank you]
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 04:08 pmdie-tician.livejournal.comSable's been around. In and out of the bar, back and forth on business... and somewhere in there he's been talked into doing a comparison taste test between his own nutrient-free Special Thick Whippy Double Chocolate shake and some sort of lowfat frozen concoction of Bar's. With soymilk.
Today he's in a designer velour track suit. He enters while talking on the phone.
"Damn it, Frannie, I don't understand how the hell the stocks can be showing 'slow growth' when I've just spent five and a half hours on a conference call with Soybean International. We're going to have to be proactive on this thing-- hey, are you there? Frannie?" He stares at his phone, then around at the bar as realization dawns. He storms up to the nearest waitrat.
"You. Triple espresso, no sugar. And make it snappy, I'm running behind for my workout."
As the rat scurries off he begins jogging in place, breathing in a regular (though rather unnatural-sounding) rhythm, two fingers on his pulse. The rat returns with his drink and he downs it in two gulps, slamming the cup back onto the tray.
"Put it on my tab," he barks, and jogs toward the door. As he exits the bar onto a busy New York sidewalk, interested patrons can read the word JUICY clearly emblazoned across his rear.
[OOC: I can't be around for tagging today, sadly, but I do hope I can bring tofu-ified Sable back before the plot ends!]
Today he's in a designer velour track suit. He enters while talking on the phone.
"Damn it, Frannie, I don't understand how the hell the stocks can be showing 'slow growth' when I've just spent five and a half hours on a conference call with Soybean International. We're going to have to be proactive on this thing-- hey, are you there? Frannie?" He stares at his phone, then around at the bar as realization dawns. He storms up to the nearest waitrat.
"You. Triple espresso, no sugar. And make it snappy, I'm running behind for my workout."
As the rat scurries off he begins jogging in place, breathing in a regular (though rather unnatural-sounding) rhythm, two fingers on his pulse. The rat returns with his drink and he downs it in two gulps, slamming the cup back onto the tray.
"Put it on my tab," he barks, and jogs toward the door. As he exits the bar onto a busy New York sidewalk, interested patrons can read the word JUICY clearly emblazoned across his rear.
[OOC: I can't be around for tagging today, sadly, but I do hope I can bring tofu-ified Sable back before the plot ends!]
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 05:51 pmnotjustatoaster.livejournal.comSharon is sitting at a booth looking rather relaxed. She has spent the past few days exploring the bar and the surrounding areas, no way out was to be found much to her annoyance.
So, she has decided to keep her secret, be friendly and hope that she can get back to Caprica soon.
Maybe a friendly chat with someone is just what she needs.
So, she has decided to keep her secret, be friendly and hope that she can get back to Caprica soon.
Maybe a friendly chat with someone is just what she needs.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 06:00 pmbloodyrockgodCharlie has a song.
It's not his, though. He's just borrowing it for a while.
( sometimes I love you )
It's not his, though. He's just borrowing it for a while.
( sometimes I love you )(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 06:25 pmdragonofgrey.livejournal.comDraco was sitting to the back of the bar, watching. Even asking for simple tea was a chore. Been bringing his own supplies for some of it. Just until this tofu nonsense was sorted out. Watchful eyes for some key people in fact. That month extension was almost up. And he still owed debts to people.
Happy Christmas indeed.
Happy Christmas indeed.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 07:36 pmexplorertruman.livejournal.comTruman managed to get himself to a couch by the fire, and fell asleep there. Still looking beat up some with various cuts and bruises, he woke several hours later. Everything was still fuzzy. Vaguely remembered stopping back, but couldn't find Sylvia. They were supposed to meet about then, right? He did remember some sort of appointment. But she was late or something.
Not there. Just a large mob coming after him. He crossed his arms in front of him, trying to get warm. Drafty here...oh right, his clothes. Still shredded. He should do something about that. But first to get more awake and warm.
Not there. Just a large mob coming after him. He crossed his arms in front of him, trying to get warm. Drafty here...oh right, his clothes. Still shredded. He should do something about that. But first to get more awake and warm.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 08:27 pmrealmrsreynoldsSallie's in the bar.
Wearing a gray-blue sweater with silver tinsel thread in the collar, a black skirt, and earrings.
Someone must be organizing the stage for the piano recital later.
Tom's coming by in a little bit for the red curtains and the more magical end of the decorations -- Sallie's just getting the ball rolling with moving chairs around and triple-checking that her vidcapture works for later.
Like hell is she not saving this for posterity.
Wearing a gray-blue sweater with silver tinsel thread in the collar, a black skirt, and earrings.
Someone must be organizing the stage for the piano recital later.
Tom's coming by in a little bit for the red curtains and the more magical end of the decorations -- Sallie's just getting the ball rolling with moving chairs around and triple-checking that her vidcapture works for later.
Like hell is she not saving this for posterity.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 08:44 pmb-a-summers.livejournal.comBuffy comes downstairs.
Buffy finds herself coming over all funny.
Buffy finds herself dressed like her icon.
Buffy does not find this amusing.
Buffy finds herself coming over all funny.
Buffy finds herself dressed like her icon.
Buffy does not find this amusing.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 09:08 pmfirst_of_danaThe woman in the long white robes is not concerned with the tranformation of her fellow patrons into urban professionals of any age. She would look at anyone who mentioned Christmas to her rather blankly. She is standing not far from the Observation Window, watching the universe end.
Jaelle stands perfectly motionless, chin raised a little defiantly, except for her eyes, which dart from dying star to dying star.
[ooc: Kinda sorta plot-lockedish; please ping at elsinorequeen before tagging. Thank you.]
Jaelle stands perfectly motionless, chin raised a little defiantly, except for her eyes, which dart from dying star to dying star.
[ooc: Kinda sorta plot-lockedish; please ping at elsinorequeen before tagging. Thank you.]
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 09:08 pmpwyll_twicebornNormally, Paul comes to Milliways by accident.
Today, he has a purpose - a purpose, and news to share. So though his arrival could still, technically, be called an accident, as he has no control over it, it's with unusual satisfaction that he sees the bar instead of the street outside the coffee shop.
He's scanning for one face, in particular. He doesn't know if he'll find it, though.
Today, he has a purpose - a purpose, and news to share. So though his arrival could still, technically, be called an accident, as he has no control over it, it's with unusual satisfaction that he sees the bar instead of the street outside the coffee shop.
He's scanning for one face, in particular. He doesn't know if he'll find it, though.
Before the recital...
Dec. 22nd, 2006 09:35 pmangela-edmunds.livejournal.comAngela's in the bar tonight, sipping a glass of water with lemon in it. She's a little nervous, but she looks very pretty in a long dark skirt and a red sweater. Her hair is piled up on her head and she's wearing sparkly earrings, which, incidentally, match the necklace that she always wears.
She's a little nervous. She's never played piano in front of people before.
She's a little nervous. She's never played piano in front of people before.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 09:42 pmhttp://users.livejournal.com/_romana_/Romana isn't terribly knowledgeable about Earthan holidays. There's just so many of them. There doesn't seem to be any truly global holidays at all. However, she did travel with the Doctor for some time, and at least once there was a Christmas celebration. K-9 had requested more ball bearings from 'Santa' that year.
This might go some way to explaining why the young Time Lord felt the need to put a Santa hat on her mechanical dog. Perhaps.
Other than that very vibrant aberration, all seems quiet. She's curled up comfortably on the couch, reading a copy of H.G. Well's 'The Time Machine'.
This might go some way to explaining why the young Time Lord felt the need to put a Santa hat on her mechanical dog. Perhaps.
Other than that very vibrant aberration, all seems quiet. She's curled up comfortably on the couch, reading a copy of H.G. Well's 'The Time Machine'.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 09:52 pmtibetanmethodHawk brought Cooper a sample of sand from Glastonberry Grove that should have been engine oil. Major Briggs told Cooper that the day he and Josie came through into the grove, the radio signals emanating from the woods have returned to completely normal levels -- only what's normal for anybody else is abnormal for Twin Peaks.
Cooper comes in the front door and disappears down the hallway -- he's got to get a sample of the sand from the Japanese rock garden. It's probably going to match the sand that Hawk got from the grove. And what that means --
Twin Peaks is in trouble.
For now, though, he slips the plastic envelope inside his jacket, next to his tape recorder, and sits down at the bar.
And says, cautiously, "...can I get a cup of plain black coffee?"
Nothing.
"Please?"
One appears, and Cooper smiles. Widely. Things may be about to get awful, but at least he can still get a damn fine cup of coffee.
Without creamer.
Cooper comes in the front door and disappears down the hallway -- he's got to get a sample of the sand from the Japanese rock garden. It's probably going to match the sand that Hawk got from the grove. And what that means --
Twin Peaks is in trouble.
For now, though, he slips the plastic envelope inside his jacket, next to his tape recorder, and sits down at the bar.
And says, cautiously, "...can I get a cup of plain black coffee?"
Nothing.
"Please?"
One appears, and Cooper smiles. Widely. Things may be about to get awful, but at least he can still get a damn fine cup of coffee.
Without creamer.
Piano Recital.
Dec. 22nd, 2006 09:54 pmrealmrsreynoldsOut of all the decorations -- wreath behind the piano, spotlights, fairy lights twinkling -- and preparation, Sallie forgot a microphone.
Shouldn't be a problem.
"Hello everyone," Sallie stands in front of the piano. She directs herself far more to the people in the chairs for the immediate audience, but also to passersby who might be interested. "Welcome to the first beginner's piano recital, presented by the House of Arch Academy. We have a small selection of performers for you this evening, and it is our hope that you can join us for a few songs for the holidays that our players have been working on very diligently."
A hand waved toward the currently empty piano bench. "Xiexie, thank you, and enjoy the show."
[ooc: Backroom details. :D!]
Shouldn't be a problem.
"Hello everyone," Sallie stands in front of the piano. She directs herself far more to the people in the chairs for the immediate audience, but also to passersby who might be interested. "Welcome to the first beginner's piano recital, presented by the House of Arch Academy. We have a small selection of performers for you this evening, and it is our hope that you can join us for a few songs for the holidays that our players have been working on very diligently."
A hand waved toward the currently empty piano bench. "Xiexie, thank you, and enjoy the show."
[ooc: Backroom details. :D!]
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 10:47 pmthe_antiangstHe doesn't know what the 'it' is that worked, but between the note and the lack of Suzi, Angel's going to guess it involved getting Whistler back in his right mind.
Which is good, since it means all this tofu business is likely on its way out... but he's still got restaurant leftovers. It's easier than trying to deal with Bar just now.
In any case, 'tis the season.
(OOC: Am plagued, and as such might drop off without warning. In that case, slowtime is love.)
Which is good, since it means all this tofu business is likely on its way out... but he's still got restaurant leftovers. It's easier than trying to deal with Bar just now.
In any case, 'tis the season.
(OOC: Am plagued, and as such might drop off without warning. In that case, slowtime is love.)
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 10:51 pmnot-only-wisdom.livejournal.comNynaeve steps in from the House of Arch, heading first to the bar for a pot of tea, then to her usual table in the corner.
Once there she prepares herself a cup, then sips it slowly, occasionally scanning the bar to see who might be about.
She is not looking for Lan.
Hush.
Once there she prepares herself a cup, then sips it slowly, occasionally scanning the bar to see who might be about.
She is not looking for Lan.
Hush.
(no subject)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 11:37 pmhello-cally.livejournal.comWesterly has a table to himself tonight, one with good light. Before him is set a thick pad of paper, a box of shading pencils beside it. He draws, the medium-dark pencil in his hand giving substance to the distant ocean waves over which graphite seagulls wheel and call. On the page, an immense stone gate completely obscures the harbour beyond, save for the tallest of masts, its stones shining white with the faintest of shading.
He probably isn't aware of the distracted frown on his face.
He probably isn't aware of the distracted frown on his face.
